


here and now

by Macremae



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Buena Kai, Hurt/Comfort, Kaiju Newton Geiszler, M/M, Post-Movie: Pacific Rim: Uprising (2018), Protectiveness, Shapeshifting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 08:02:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19352851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macremae/pseuds/Macremae
Summary: Hermann had always secretly dreamed of the "power of love" being the ticket to getting Newton back. He just didn't expect it so hurt to much.





	here and now

**Author's Note:**

> me: hey newt don't you only have a few more chapters of fiann to work on?  
> me to me: YEAR OLD PROMPT YOU SAY??? ANOTHER ONESHOT YOU SAY???

When the alarm starts ringing, Hermann has been talking to the Precursors for a total for thirty minutes.

It’s the same old as always: taunting, ranting, general cartoon villainy and hints about just how badly they’re torturing Newton. A couple odd glances that look as if they could be him breaking through, but also might just be an illusion. Nosebleeds. Lots of nosebleeds.

Hermann would wipe the blood away, he wants to (he aches to) but the glass wall separating them prevents that. He supposes it’s better this way; now Newton can stand up and move around and lie down when he sleeps. It’s not often that last part happens, but Hermann takes what he can these days. They all do.

The alarm startles both of them, and Hermann snatches his comms from his pocket in alarm. “What’s happening?” he barks, and gets a burst of static in reply. From the mess coming through he can make out a few words: “intruders”, “lockdown”, and most worrying of all,  
“Buena Kai”. Hermann’s blood runs cold.

“Uh,” say the Precursors, “what’s all the shouting for? Did one of your meatsacks in the lab get themselves blown up?” They grin like a kid on Christmas. “Can we see?”

Hermann ignores them, focusing on locking down the cell area. He moves to the door and types in the code for the electronic bolt, then gives the heavy metal slab a push to make sure it’s in place. The Precursors are still talking, yammering on about something Hermann can’t be bothered to process. He raises his comms.

“Newton’s cell is secure. I’m in here with the Precursors, but they’re nonlethal at the moment. Awaiting further instructions.”

Only static answers him. The intruders must have reached the communications lines then. In a moment of frivolity, Hermann allows himself a muttered, “Bugger.”

By this point the Precursors have noticed that he’s not paying attention to them, and they bristle. “Hey. Hey! Gottlieb! Hello! We’re talking to you!”

Hermann rolls his eyes heavily and turns back to them. “And it is a testament to your stupidity that you still think I’m listening. Be quiet, the adults are talking.”

“Ha! It’s funny because you’re old.”

“Newton is one year younger than I am,” he shoots back. “You picked his body, now you get to live in it. Heaven knows everyone would be delighted if you decided to leave.”

“In your dreams, Gottlieb.” They smirk. “Or should we say, nightmares?”

“You all must be very bored in here if you’re so focused on coming up with new and fascinating ways to act like a two year old.”

The Precursors lean back against the wall of the cell and cross their legs languidly. “If it pisses you off, we don’t really care how you see us. Besides, Gottlieb, we’re on lockdown. You’re stuck with us.” An over the top wink, and then: “However shall we pass the time? Truth or dare? Never have I ever?” They wriggle their eyebrows. “Spin the bottle?”

Hermann runs through his mental list of prayers for strength and recites all of them. He can already feel a headache coming on. Wonderful. And of course, lockdown means he has no access to his medication. 

“Never have I ever,” the Precursors continue, “eaten sunscreen thinking it was mayonnaise.”

This gets Hermann’s attention. He blinks. “Newton did that?”

They snicker. “He’s done, seen, and licked crazy, bud. You got a fraction of his memories, but we’ve had ten years to judge him. And believe us, we’re judging _hard_.”

“I’d rather not invade Newton’s privacy any more, thank you,” he snaps. “Once he’s free, he can tell me whatever he decides.”

“It’s so cute how you visualize your goals and believe in the law of attraction.”

“I believe that the lot of you are nowhere near smart enough to not have any weaknesses,” Hermann replies cooly. They snort.

“That’s an opinion you could have.”

“Ah, yes, and what was your Plan B again?”

The Precursors fix him with a withering glare, but it’s Newton’s face, so it just looks like a very cranky hamster. “Oh, we are going to have _such_ a fun time destroying you when we get out of here.”

“Who’s visualizing their goals now? I doubt even with your abuse Newton would be able to break through bulletproof glass.”

He’s got them there. The Precursors roll their eyes and cross their arms like a teenager in a Disney Channel Original Movie. “Whatever.”

Hermann enjoys the blessed silence for a total for about fifty seconds before a pounding on the door sends them both yelping in alarm. He grips his cane tighter and takes a few steps away. The door will hold. It’s fine. Nothing could create an explosion so powerful it would break through a reinforced block of steel.

That is, assuming the intruders didn’t reach his samples in the lab. A lab which is on the way from LOCCENT to Newton’s cell. And has very, very large windows.

“Oh fuck,” Hermann says aloud.

The Precursors leap to their feet and begin to excitedly wave their arms. “We’re in here!” they shout. “Kill the praying mantis-looking one!”

Hermann glares at them as he moves back towards the glass, but he’s beginning to panic. They’re cultists. They’re stupid. They only want the Emissary. They wouldn’t have bothered stopping at his lab. Would they?

The ensuing explosion answers his question for him.

Hermann is thrown back against the barrier, and a searing pain shoots its way up his back and pools in his skull. His vision goes blurry and white at the edges, and his cane is knocked from his hands. There’s smoke and rubble everywhere, and he can just barely make out figures climbing over the wreckage. One notices him where he’s fallen and shoves their gun in his face. 

“Give us the Emissary, now!” they shout in accented English. 

Hermann’s ears are ringing, and he feels like he’s going to vomit, but he summons enough strength to croak out, “No.”

They push his chin up with the front of their rifle, and stars burst in front of Hermann’s eyes. He hisses in pain. “Take down the goddamn barrier now, or we shoot you and figure it out ourselves!”

From just behind him, he can hear the Precursors moving around behind the glass. The ringing in his ears has grown louder, and it’s probably a hallucination, but he hears something that almost sounds like, “Hermann?”

“No,” he says louder, forcing himself up to a sitting position. “I won’t let you take him.”

The cultist brings their rifle back and smacks him across the head with the barrel. Hermann lets out a cry of pain and topples sideways, barely managing to cover his chest before they kick him in the ribs. Another noise from behind him, the same as the last, but louder. “Hermann!”

The cultist kicks him again and again, knocking the breath out each time. Hermann is floating on the edge of consciousness now, but he fights to stay awake, because every moment these people are focused on him is another they’re not hurting Newton. He grits his teeth and breathes hard, bracing himself against each hit as it comes. The cultist hitting him is screaming something else, but he barely hears it over the roar in his ears. There’s a thump on the glass right behind him, and right next to his ear Hermann hears muffled yelling.

It’s the part of Newton still left in his mind from the Drift, he knows this, but it sounds so real. “Stop it!” he screams, “You’re hurting him, stop! Stop it, please!” The glass grows oddly warm behind him, almost as if someone were focusing a laser on it, and Hermann can make out a faint humming sound. There’s a sharp noise like cracking ice, and his back grows unbearably hot. Newton screams one more time: “Hermann!”

The next few moments come in flashes.

The barrier shatters behind him, and a colossal roar fills the room. Bright blue light explodes into every corner, and through his darkening vision Hermann can see the cultists step back in horror. He forces his eyes open wider just in time to see a shape hurtle itself at them from behind. It’s tall and loud and obviously enraged, tearing into the closest cultist just in time to move onto the next. Hermann can see a long, thick tail and flapping wings like a bat’s among the spray of blood and flurry of movement. The creature roars again and more bright light appears. Hermann closes his eyes to withstand it, and he must have passed out for a few moments as well, because the next time he opens his eyes the creature and light are gone.

Newton is kneeling over him, eyes a shade of blue Hermann has never seen on him before. His hands are fluttering over him nervously, and he’s shouting something in panic. Hermann’s hearing returns slowly, and he’s finally able to understand.

“Hermann!” Newton says desperately, “Hermann, can you hear me? C’mon, please wake up, please, please be okay!”

“Newton?” he mumbles, mouth dry with dust and crusted with blood. Newton lets out a shaky sigh.

“Oh my God. Oh my God, Hermann, I was so fucking scared, Jesus Christ.”

Hermann reaches up a trembling arm to touch Newton’s face. “Newton?” he says again, “Is that really you?”

Newton appears to find this fact inconsequential. “Yeah,” he says quickly, “listen, how many fingers am I holding up?”

He raises two fingers, but Hermann weakly pushes them away. “Are-- are you alright?”

Newton’s eyes widen. “Am I-- Hermann, who cares?! Are _you_ okay? Do you think you can sit up? I would run to medical but I don’t wanna leave you; can you put your arm around my shoulder? I don’t know if I’m strong enough to carry you right now, but I can try if I need to. Do you feel like you’re gonna pass out again?”

Hermann just stares at him in awe, gaping. “You’re you,” he says dumbly. He puts his hand back on Newton’s cheek. “I missed you.”

There’s a moment of trepidation on Newton’s face, but when Hermann moves his thumb across his skin, he melts. Hermann reaches his other arm out, a question, and Newton carefully pulls him up and into his arms. Newton smells like blood and starched scrubs and the faintest hint of antiseptic sweat; surprisingly him after all this time. He holds Hermann like this is the last time they’ll ever touch, and Hermann squeezes back that no, never, I won’t let them.

Hermann buries his face in Newton’s shoulder and breathes in deeply. In a choked voice, he says, “You came back.”

“Always to you,” Newton answers, “always.”

They’re alone now, truly alone for the first time in years. Hermann can see it in the way Newton looks at him as if the sun is no longer needed, in how the whole of his attention is focused solely on Hermann. The Drift feels clean again and safer, once again something shared by only the two of them. Newton moves his hand up and down Hermann’s back, tracing over the ridges of his spine one by one. The movement soothes him, and the pain in his body fades in comparison to the sensation of Newton’s hands on him. 

“Do you think it’s safe to go outside?” Newton asks, and Hermann stiffens at the thought of people seeing Newton, of making assumptions, of taking him away again.

“Someone will come for us,” he says. “I’ll be alright.” Newton gives him a questioning look, and deep down Hermann knows he’s lying, but a little extra pain is more than worth this. He presses his lips to Newton’s forehead and lets them linger there. “I don’t think I can get up, anyway.”

“I can go find help,” Newton inists, but Hermann shakes his head.

“Stay with me,” he says, and Newton doesn’t reply, doesn’t need to. Instead he raises his wings (dark, leather, not an angel’s at all and yet Hermann has never felt so protected) and curls them around the two of them, blocking out the smoke, the lights, the world, until there is only the sound of their breathing and the pulse of the Drift between them.


End file.
